


Be a Bomber

by Asterrious



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asterrious/pseuds/Asterrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My own version of the high school AU.</p><p>Someone's going to die. That's the long and short of it. There will be blood spilled and tears cried, and a corpse to be spat upon.</p><p>And Mako's going to make damn sure it isn't Jamie lying there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crashing Below

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a three part work. First chapter is from Jamie's point of view, the next one will be from Mako's point of view. It contains mentions of past parental abuse throughout, so please tread carefully.
> 
> Not entirely based on yazzdonut's au, but takes certain inspiration from it.

His pet rat was named Bomber, because he had discovered that the little guy really had a penchant for flying through the air and being tossed around. It was an accidental discovery, of course, when he’d tossed his shirt off after school one day without remembering that the rat was snoozing in his pocket. Jamie had memory problems at the best of times and he’d only had the thing for a week, but he heard a small squeak from his bed and ran to it, already spitting out apologies as he pulled his new pet from the pocket.

“Shit, sorry, sorry, ya okay? Forgot you were in there, ya gotta make more noise or something…”

It ran directly onto his hand when it felt his fingers and curled against them, tiny noise pointed into the air and whiskers bouncing up and down as it sniffed the air. Even though it didn’t seem hurt, the squeal made him worried. He gently brought the rat to his face to inspect it for wounds, thumb combing through the black fur for any sign of pain or blood, wishing he had his other arm on so he could use one whole hand instead of the only finger he could maneuver with.

Instead of holding still for its examination though, the little thing turned and ran straight off his hand. The motion startled him and he flinched back, somehow afraid he’d hurt it and praying to god he hadn’t managed to kill his new rat.

Days later, Jamie swore up and down that he’d seen it jump and launch its paws far forward, like the smallest, furriest Superman imaginable. It landed on the bed and he couldn’t make himself look, sure that it had somehow killed itself to get away from how bad he smelled or something. But he felt fur against the hand that had fallen limply down to the bed, and he forced his eyes open to see Bomber waiting expectantly.

Now, it was difficult to keep the rat in his pocket. Once Bomber had found that he liked flying, it was all he wanted to do, popping his head up into the open at the most inconvenient of times. Jamie called them his ‘scouting missions’, to see if there was anything nearby he could jump to. Make called them annoying, since often his shoulder was the closest thing in the rat’s sight.

But he could tell that Mako didn’t really mean it. He let the rat run all over him when he and Jamie sat on the couch after school or on the weekends, sharing a bowl of cereal and watching old movies with the sound off so they could provide their own running commentary of events. And at the end of the night, when Jamie would have to leave because of work or some other thing that had to get done, the bigger man would give the rat his own goodbye.

Bomber was probably the best thing the teen had ever had in his room. Any of them, really. Currently, the seventeen year old occupied a tiny, one room apartment, with a plastic curtain hanging on a rod he’d put up himself to divide the bathroom from the kitchen and his bed. There was barely enough room for a little stand on which to put Bomber’s cage, but he’d managed to find the space, wedging the thing between the foot of his bed and the wall. Somehow it was nice to have something else sleeping in the room with him at night, even if it was just a little friend. Helped him stay grounded, helped remind him that there was a world outside his own head.

School helped too. Fuck if he’d admit it though, and he couldn’t wait for the day he graduated and didn’t have to deal with the teachers and the principal breathing down his neck. The routine was good for him, but compared to the agonizing torture of boring classes, lectures from disappointed adults about how he could do better, and stares from the kids around him, Jamie would gladly burn the place to the ground and go back to living the nocturnal life.

This was his last semester though. One more to get through before he could fuck on out of there, find himself a full-time job, and start living the good life.

Or, the life where people didn’t yell at him for bringing cherry bombs to school, even though he’d only forgotten to take them out before he came.

At this point, he’d take either.

The morning after winter break, Jamie woke to find Bomber nestled into his toilet paper roll, beady little eyes staring at him as he stretched, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes. Almost the moment he lifted his arms over his head to crack his back, he realized he’d forgotten to take off his binder last night before he got in bed. That would probably mark about three straight days of wearing it.

“Whoops!” He giggled aloud to the rat, not bothered in the slightest by the familiar little ache in his chest as he literally rolled out of bed. It was so much easier for Jamie to convince himself to get up if the surface he was lying on was not his mattress. 

To be fair though, he could sleep just about anywhere. Any vaguely horizontal surface was good for a nap if he really needed one. 

Jamie felt like he needed one as he stumbled to his feet, looking around for where he’d left his prosthetic the night before. His backpack was thrown into the kitchen sink, which seemed like a reasonable enough place, and he saw the clothes he’d been wearing dangling from one of the shower curtain hooks, but the giant hunk of metal that passed for his right arm was suspiciously absent. 

Crap. He kinda didn’t feel like going without it today, but there wasn’t enough time to conduct a thorough search of the incredibly small, one room apartment. Jamie had skills in hiding things when he needed to, and sometimes it came back to bite him in the ass.

Settling for throwing the least dirty tank top on over his binder and then covering it with a flannel jacket that had the right sleeve pre-tied off, he pulled his backpack from the sink, scooped Bomber into the pocket on his jacket, and slouched out the door towards high school.

He had to come back inside fairly quickly when he realized that his underwear and pants had neglected to also make it on his body. That old guy living a few doors down had definitely gotten an eyeful, and while normally Jamie wouldn’t care, he was pretty sure there was some law that said you had to wear pants in public or something.

Goddamn government, trying to control everything people did. 

The closest pair of pants he could find were oil-stained cargo shorts, and he pulled them on without bothering to go digging in his dirty clothes pile for a pair of underwear. It occurred to him that shoes might also be a good idea, just as he was about to cross the threshold, and he sighed, glaring at his feet as though they’d betrayed him by not already being in socks and boots.

When he’d finally managed to get himself dressed for school, he stepped back out into the hallway, noting with a snicker that his neighbor’s door was firmly closed and the welcome mat outside was out of place. Guy must have scrambled to get back inside before his weird teenage neighbor came back out, sans a shirt.

Stairs creaked underneath his feet as Jamie strolled to the first floor of his apartment building. The shoes had delayed him long enough that there was no way he was going to be able to get to school on time, so there was no need to rush anymore. There was a coffee place on his way that he might stop in, if it didn’t look too busy- it felt like a morning to treat himself. He could already taste the espresso on his tongue, burning his taste buds. 

Too wrapped up in planning his excuse for his homeroom teacher, he smacked into the glass doors of his building with a loud ‘thump’. He wheeled backwards, hand flying up to cup the pocket Bomber rested in, stumbling over his own feet.

How Jamie managed to remain upright was a mystery, considering how clumsy the kid could be when he tried. His nose hurt from the impact and he rubbed at it a little when he realized that Bomber was okay. Ecstatic, in fact, at the sensation of whirling through the air. It made sense that he’d get the weirdest rat.

Jamie moved to leave again, and found someone standing on the other side of the doors, blocking his way. Not his own reflection, like that time he was high as shit and thought someone else was trying to keep him out of the shower.

An actual person. A woman, with long blonde hair piled high on top of her head and sharp, piercing brown eyes. Wrinkles cut into the corners of her mouth and crow’s feet pulled at the edges of her eyes, making her appear much older than she really was. With the paleness of her blonde hair, she could almost pass for being in her sixties, never mind her late-thirties.

His mother had been like that ever since he could remember. She’d had him when she was nineteen, and although he’d never seen a photo of her from back then, he would put down money on her having her frown lines and worry wrinkles since the day the devil decided to let his daughter walk among the humans.

Oops. He meant her birthday. 

It’d been three years since he’d seen her, and the sight was not a pleasant one. On instinct he stepped back from the glass, happy that the door hadn’t opened from him running up against it. His apartment building was shit, but the reason he refused to move was that it was the only place in his price range that required a code to enter the building. She couldn’t get in as long as no one opened the door.

“Tha’ fuck are you doin’ here?” He asked, hefting his backpack up higher on his shoulder. The paperwork for the restraining order was somewhere in his room, and he knew that he should have had it on him, but there had been neither hide nor hair of her for three years. Long enough for him to feel safe without the paper in his pocket. Idiotic.

At least he still had his pocketknives and cherry bombs. He would have no qualms about throwing one in her face if she managed to get through that door.

Hell, he was still considering it.

“I came to see you, honey.”

Though the door between them muffled her voice, he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the pet name coming from her lips. Ever trying to be the patient, perfect mother; Kind and caring and all of the things mothers were supposed to be. It wasn’t her fault if her kid had never lived up to the ideal family life she wanted for herself. No, not her fault at all that she’d had to bend and twist him to make him fit into the neat little hole prepared for him. He knew she’d rather lower him into his grave than see him disgrace her or her happy, peaceful world. 

“S’illegal. Get the fuck outta my way or I’ll call the cops.”

She pulled hard on her lip with her teeth and he could almost hear the sucking noise he knew she made when she was thinking hard, could hear it loud and clear in his ears. 

“If you do, I’ll tell them about the bombs you like to build. I’m sure not all of your supplies are legal, are they?”  
Jamie snorted.

“Fine. But, ya know, if you wanna play the mother card, you’re gonna have to call me in sick. M’not going to school today.”

Ignoring whatever she said next, he turned and stomped back up the stairs as fast as he could. He took them two at a time, hardly feeling the strain on his bony legs, mind racing with other ways he could get out of the building. He’d meant what he said about not going to school, but that didn’t mean he wanted to sit in his shitty apartment until someone was kind enough to let the nice older lady in. There was a back entrance, but then he’d just have to sneak back around to the sidewalk, and there was a good chance he’d run into her there. There wasn’t exactly a way for him to check if she’d been let back in or not, and he wasn’t going to just pop down to the doors every now and then, to give her a wave.

Roof it was, then. 

It was convenient that he’d forgotten to lock his apartment door, as he didn’t have to fish the key out of his jacket’s other pocket and the pile of gum wrappers that lived there. Jamie entered the room like a whirlwind, throwing his backpack onto the bed before he spun, trying to see what the essentials were without having to stop moving. He snatched up a few shirts and pants from the floor and tossed them into the bottom of his pack, leaving the underwear lying forgotten. Wasn’t that important anyway.

Since he never kept any school supplies in his backpack, it was easy to fill it with odds and ends from around the apartment. He stuck a pack of rat’s food and a few of the little guy’s toys in there too, before coving it with a thick layer of graph paper and pencil sketches. He didn’t really think his mom was going to make good on her threat, given the fact that she was also breaking the law by being anywhere near him, but Jamie wasn’t going to risk coming back to the building for a few days, at least. He’d go crazy if he didn’t have his designs to work on. This time he remembered to add the restraining order to the top of the pile, just in case he needed to grab it quickly.

A few sandwiches dropped into the only Tupperware container he could find, and Jamie winced at the sound of their impact. He couldn’t remember how long they’d been in the fridge, but maybe he could still eat them later, once they defrosted. If nothing else, they’d be good to throw at the bitch if she got too close.

Last of all, he dipped into his pocket to grab Bomber and set him on the blanket of his bed. The blonde winked at the little animal before dropping to flatten himself against the floorboards, shimmying his way under the bed. There was a thick layer of dust down here and he wanted to sneeze as it all rushed up his nose the second he inhaled. Instead, he reached out to carefully pry away a section of the wall’s baseboard, revealing a carefully hidden collection of containers and vials. Some of it was stolen from an industrial plant nearby, some of it was just everyday bleach, and some of them were mixtures of his own creation. All of it together, even if some of the parts were innocent, was definitely illegal.

There was a messenger bag lying casually against the wall and he carefully filled the padded inside with his hidden treasures, each one slotting into a specially made compartment so they wouldn’t move around too much while he moved.

Mako had helped him sew it, back when he realized Jamie was moving around highly dangerous materials by wrapping them in newspaper and dropping them in the bottom of his backpack. He hadn’t really seen what the big deal was, but it was kinda convenient to be able to hold a lot more stuff when he had to move quickly. 

Like just then, for instance.

When he was sure he’d completely emptied the little cavern, he turned his head to the side to nod at the spider that had taken up residence underneath his bed before wiggling back out of the small space. Bomber was replaced inside his pocket and he set the strap of the messenger bag over his shoulder before pulling on his backpack, counting on the weight of it to help the other bag stay in place. Didn’t want some of those chemicals breaking in the bag and mixing together- would be like lighting a beacon to tell his mother where he was, not to mention be a good way to lose another perfectly good limb.

Again, as he was racing out the door, Jamie realized he was forgetting something important. He hadn’t seen his prosthetic arm during his frenzied search of the apartment. Turning around, the boy cast another glance around the room to confirm that he really didn’t see the hunk of metal. Unconsciously, his teeth bit down on his lower lip, sucking his cheeks in as he thought about what to do.

Odds were good that it wasn’t inside his house, if he hadn’t found it yet. But the teen wasn’t forgetful enough to just leave his entire fucking arm somewhere and not remember it.

Well. Maybe.

There wasn’t time to think about it any further though. Giving it up for a lost cause, Jamie ran back to the staircase for the third time that day, this time climbing up instead of down. He’d figured out how to get to the roof his first day living here, and since then it had been a good place to sit and test a few of his chemicals together. Nothing that explosive, of course, but stuff that was likely to make a lot of smoke or fumes. Stuff that you needed good ventilation for. 

It was thirteen flights of stairs up from his apartment and he was breathing hard by the time he made it, having sprinted the whole way. 

Coming to the roof was anticlimactic- with the way his heart hammered in his chest, he felt like he should have been standing on the tallest structure in the world, a parachute strapped to his back and important government secrets clutched in his hands. Sirens should have been blaring in his ears as the wind rushed through his hair, carrying freedom and the scent of the ocean. For a crazy second, he had the urge to run to the edge and jump over, his arms spread, certain that his parachute would catch him before he hit the concrete.

But no- there was garbage and ash in the air, and he couldn’t see further than a few buildings away with everything that towered over her apartment building. Only the sun shining in the sky fit with his mental picture, and even that was beginning to be obscured by clouds. Jamie had to stop himself from staring over the edge of the roof all the same.

He’d done this before, but it sent a thrill through his stomach every time. Cupping his hand around Bomber to make sure the rat stayed in his pocket the whole time, the blonde took a few steps back, stopped, and took a running start. Long legs helped him vault up onto the lip of the building next door, and then he was momentarily soaring through the air. Jamie couldn’t stop himself from laughing as the smell of gas and urban decay fell away for half a second, leaving only rushing wind. In another life, maybe he’d have been one of those track jocks, running around the course and jumping over vaults. He loved it enough.

He landed on his feet without too much trouble, skidding across the roof slightly with a grunt. Jamie knew he was supposed to roll, but he was worried that doing so would be too much for Bomber, no matter how much the little guy liked flying around. Even jumping between buildings got to be too much for him sometimes, and Jamie knew it. Better to destroy his knees than give his pet a heart attack.

Instead of making the leap onto the next roof and continuing as far away from the horror that awaited him on the sidewalk below, the teen made his way into the new building, navigating through the familiar halls and to the back stairwell. He’d spent a lot of time exploring the buildings next to his late at night, when he couldn’t sleep and he’d already learned all of his own residence’s secrets. Always the paranoid one. It made him feel better to have multiple escape routes.

This building’s back stairwell didn’t dump you out into an alley whose only outlet was the sidewalk he was trying to avoid. It opened out onto the next street over, which was always bustling with traffic and cars. Easy to blend into the crowd here, especially since the one he was running from probably didn’t know he had even left his apartment yet.

He’d catch a bus and ride it out to Mako’s place. It was easy to jimmy the lock on his window, and his parents would have already left for work, so he’d have the place to himself. Somewhere he was absolutely positive his mother wasn’t going to find him, so he could work out what he was going to do.  
Jamie barely noticed the motion of the bus beneath him, nor was he aware of when exactly he’d boarded. Inside his head, his thoughts were consumed of the crows feet and frown lines that decorated his mom’s face, testaments to both her patience and her misery.

_“She’s a little defective, but that’s alright. I love her anyway.”_

Overheard from the stairs when he was five and he had long, shimmering blonde hair that his mother put into a braid every night. She would have taught him how to do it, except he’d been born with only the one hand. Birth defect, the doctors said- he was alright, otherwise. A healthy, little baby girl.

They’d been wrong on more than one of those.

Because in his mother’s eyes, he’d never be nothing but a mistake. That was alright- he’d stopped wanting her love around the time he began to wear baggier and baggier clothing, hiding in oversized hoodies and sweats so that no one would see him. The night he’d cut his hair with the kitchen scissors had been the last straw, for both of them.

A courtroom, a public advocate, an agreement put into place. They called Jamie an emancipated minor and said he had all the privileges an adult had. He’d immediately used them to file a restraining order and then move out of the state, far from the rural place he’d been born into the biggest city he could find. 

But he was starting to come to the conclusion that the judge, the restraining order, and the miles between them, weren’t enough. 

Maybe his first instinct had been correct. Maybe when he’d fantasized about throwing a cherry bomb into her face, he shouldn’t have held himself back.

Something about imagining her head blowing apart, ripping at the seams the wrinkles carved into her face and splattering in all directions, gave him a profound sense of satisfaction. A simple cherry bomb would never do though, not for her. He’d make something special for her.

In the back of the bus, Jamie started to giggle to himself. None of the strangers turned to stare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Mako. There are also plans for an exit.

Some of the other guys in their grade had gone through growth spurts too. They’d come out on the other side as string beans, stretched long and thin, with a few wiry muscles underneath skin pulled tight. They worked out constantly to try and bulk themselves up- anything to look less spindly. The basketball coach only encouraged them, telling them that they could be professionals if only they were willing to put in the time and effort. Mako had heard many of the pep talks he’d given the team, sitting underneath the bleachers with Jamie and passing a joint back and forth. It was all bull, and they all knew it. The coach only wanted a passable record for the season so he wouldn’t get fired. The guys just wanted to feel more comfortable with themselves.

None of their growth spurts could hold a candle to Mako’s. He’d always been a large kid, taller than every other brat around him by third grade. Fat. The first day of middle school had been abound with the noises of snorting, people scrunching up their noses as he walked past and oinking at him like he was a pig. A group had gathered around to watch him eat from his ‘trough’ at lunchtime.

It hurt. There was no way it couldn’t. But he’d repaid them with plenty of their own hurt. Broken noses, bruised ribs, and a brand new hole in the cafeteria wall where he’d sent someone flying. He’d been expelled from the school within the week, but none of the parents had pressed charges, and so he’d simply switched to another school in the district. Mako’s reputation preceded him there, and he’d been spared having to make another demonstration of force.

Of course this meant he was alone a lot. But that was fine. He preferred it that way. Over time he’d made a couple connections, a couple of the other loners, but nothing that really stuck. People were afraid of him, for good reason.

A thick layer of muscle covered his fat, and he’d been compared to a walking brick wall. People moved out of his way as soon as they saw him coming down the hall, if only because they knew he wouldn’t be the one getting hurt if they collided. Mako’s latest growth spurt had him standing at 6’8’’, and the set of weights he kept in his room ensured that his frame filled out to match his height. 

Jamie always joked that he was as good as a battering ram for clearing the halls. The skinny fuck had absolutely no coordination and would often stumble in crowds, and so he’d taken to sticking close to Mako’s side, grinning as the waters parted before them.

They’d met because the bigger guy had caught him lurking in his shadow, trying to remain unnoticed on his first day. The place had been abuzz all day with the news of a new transfer this late in the school year, with a prosthetic arm and a heavily bandaged leg. He’d looked like a fucking rat, hiding in the corner, eyes shifting everywhere and chest heaving from frantic breath.

It was a cartoonish, stupid stunt that had gotten Jamie a bloody nose, but Mako had been grudgingly impressed with the nail marks dug deep into the side of his face. Somehow, the fucker decided that the fight had made them friends, despite Mako’s insistence to the contrary. Nothing he said would dissuade the blonde from dogging along beside him, talking a mile a minute. At first, Mako thought he was under the stupid impression that the bigger guy would defend him if someone thought to take advantage of the weird, gangly, disabled new kid.

_“Your prosthetic looks like shit. Did you make it out of garbage?”_

_Jamie’s face had split into a shit-eating grin and Mako had taken the opportunity to begin slipping away down the hall, hopeful that he’d be able to lose his new shadow for the rest of the day._

_“Yeah. Yer mom asked me to make her a new vibrator from it too, but I gave her my dick instead. Figured it would be better, yaknow?”_

_“You don’t even have a dick!”_

_A sneer. A beat of silence. Mako snuck further down the hall._

_“Sure, yeah. But I bet I still got more down there than you.”_

_Snarling, the kid stepped up to swing a punch, purposefully aiming for the right side of Jamie’s body. Where his prosthetic and bandaged leg were, where he assumed the gangly kid would be slow and unprepared._

_Instead, the blonde danced away from the blow, a high-pitched, manic giggle spilling out of his mouth. He quickly stepped into the opening provided, and the elbow of his metal prosthetic slammed into the kid’s stomach at full force, sending him sprawling back across the linoleum with a choked noise of pain. The sound of his head cracking against the floor was almost as loud as the impact of the elbow had been._

_Jamie laughed like he was at a fucking comedy show, taking the opportunity to aim a well placed kick with his un-bandaged foot right between the other’s legs. Even Mako had to wince at the sight. Down the hall, a blonde girl who’d been putting her books in her locker shrieked._

_Mako turned his gaze on her and she shut up quickly, backing away from the scene, probably to go get a teacher. Brown eyes, blown wide and slightly crazed focused on the retreating form before they turned to the bigger guy with a grin. Jamie limped over to the other, shoulders shaking with silent laughter._

_“Even if he was bigger, don’t think he’ll be able to take advantage of it for a while. We should split. ”_

It hadn’t been his choice, but Jamie had grown on him like a fucking tumor. 

Mako passed the day in silence, the way he usually did when Jamie didn’t show up. It was a miracle the guy was going to graduate on time, bar any unfortunate incidents with cherry bombs in the toilets. Probably had as many absences as days he’d actually been there.

They had plans, though. Plans that required them both to graduate and fuck off as soon as possible. Mako had been content with his life, before Jamie came along. 

No. That was the wrong word, the word for who he might have been if he hadn’t had to develop thick skin and a penchant for bloody knuckles. Content was a word for the kid he might have been, before he beat someone unconscious with his fists. Before he followed a too-friendly teacher off, away from the others after school, away from where his mom was waiting.

Mako Rutledge had been resigned. But Jamie brought something else out in him, something that made him want to see the world and what it had to offer. Something that made him want to see what Jamie could do.

God, it was so fucking sentimental. 

After collecting the blonde’s chemistry homework from the teacher- the only class Jamie actually seemed to care about- he caught the bus and passed the time by thinking about what to do that night. Dinner, sure, because if Jamie hadn’t gone to school that meant he hadn’t had a meal that day. He thought about asking to spar before they ate too. It had been a long time since he and the other had gone a few rounds without pulling any punches- he wanted to see if he’d gotten faster, if he could dodge Jamie’s speed.

The perfect fucking sparring team, that was them. Going to take on the world together. Sometimes the thought made Mako a little sick.

He didn’t want to be close with Jamie in the way that they’d become, in the dead of night when he was alone again. Because despite the thick armor he’d built up, literally and figuratively, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The skinny little fuck would walk out on him, or laugh and tell him that he’d been making it up the whole time. That he’d just wanted to see if he could get the fat kid to fall in love and stop feeling disgusting and ugly.

Maybe he’d always feel like that. Half annoyed, half caring. Half like he wanted to slam Jamie’s face into a brick wall and half like he wanted to wrap the other up and hold him for hours. He hated that he had those thoughts about someone he loved. He hated that, secretly, he was glad that Jamie was probably more fucked up than he was. 

Showed his true character.

The house was suspiciously noisy when he got home. Mako frowned the second he walked through the front door, noting that there was a metallic clanging sound coming from his bedroom. His parents weren’t home yet- their cars weren’t out front- and wouldn’t be for hours.

Well, at least he didn’t have to go through the trouble of figuring out where Jamie was. The guy didn’t have a cellphone and it made him difficult to track down.

His bedroom had been turned into a scene from some sort of science fiction movie. Metal parts were scattered across his bedspread, spreading dark oil that stained everything it touched. There were a few containers on the ground, spread in a circle around Jamie. Some of them held things Mako could recognize- bleach, more oil, gunpowder. The others were all foreign.

Immediately, he realized there was something wrong. Jamie found working on his explosives soothing. The rhythm of it calmed him, forced him to work slowly and methodically, even when his mind wanted to jump out of his skin. It was a good way to help the blonde settle down even in his most manic of states.

But now, Jamie’s hands were almost a blur as they moved. He saw that the other had retrieved his prosthetic from under Mako’s bed, where he’d left it last night, and was making use of it to hold a soldering iron. His flesh hand, wearing a thick padded glove, was tinkering with the shell of something round, manipulating bits of wire inside before he held the fire to their edges. Normally, Mako would have chastised him for having his face so close to the fire unprotected, but he saw that Jamie had taken the time to sweep his hair back with a headband. His frown deepened as he noted that he’d never seen him pay any attention to singed hair before.

A number of identical round devices were on the floor beside Jamie, seemingly waiting to be finished. He walked closer, making as much noise as he could so that he wouldn’t startle his partner with his approach.

Jamie didn’t so much as look at him.

On close inspection, these little balls were different than what the other was working on now. These were simple, with a fuse and a pocket designed to hold ignition fluid. The extra space was packed with bits of scrap metal, and Mako raised an eyebrow. Shrapnel bombs. Designed to hurt as much as possible.

Since standing over him didn’t seem to snap Jamie out of it, he walked over to his bed and swept the huge amount of debris onto the floor so he could settle himself on the bedspread to watch. It didn’t seem like a good idea to interrupt while there was a soldering iron so close to Jamie’s face. 

You were supposed to wear eye protection for those, weren’t you? 

Jamie had rigged this one up for himself though, out of spare parts and creativity. It couldn’t get as hot or as bright as a real one. It was probably fine.

Only when the flame went out did Mako speak up, watching his partner put the tool aside and lean in close to inspect the device’s inner workings, checking to see if he’d gotten everything the way he wanted them.

“Hey.” 

Despite the low tone of his voice, Jamie jumped like he’d been hit and his knee knocked the container of oil onto the carpet. A skinny arm flew out to stop it, even as Mako watched the impending disaster with horror, afraid for the pink, pig-shaped rug he loved. Time moved in slow motion as fingers closed around the container, stopping all of the liquid except for a single drop.

A sigh of relief, and Jamie carefully set the container upright, looking up at Mako with a sour expression.

“What’dya do that for? Nearly gave me a damn heart attack.”

“This is my room.”

“Yeah, and I got a soldering iron in me hand.” He snatched it back up and waved it around threateningly, the old metal of his prosthetic groaning at the gesture. Needed more oil, and probably quite a bit of maintenance, but it wasn’t like Jamie would stop to actually give it that.

“Try it.” Came his answer, Mako unmoving even as the fire clicked back on.

Fortunately for the state of his room, instead of jumping at him, Jamie huffed and dropped it once more. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he seemed even paler than usual, all the color gone from his face. Even his freckles, normally stark against the cream of his skin, seemed gone. 

Mako would have thought he was sick, if it hadn’t been for the manic energy shining in his eyes. They were too big and bright- pupils blown wide and darting, the same way he got when he’d been fighting. Like he was over-stimulated and couldn’t see anything, all at once.

“What is it?” The bigger guy asked bluntly, not one to beat around the bush. 

Jamie shrugged and nodded towards Mako’s pillow.

“Careful ya don’t sit on Bomber.”

He turned his head to see a small lump that had curled itself underneath his pillowcase for a nap. A bag of the rat’s food was set on Mako’s nightstand, and from the looks of it Jamie had put out some of the toys from his cage too. Actual worry took hold in the pit of Mako’s stomach- something must have happened to Jamie’s apartment. He never brought the toys or food over with him.

“What happened?” 

His voice was sharper now, demanding an answer. The blonde cringed slightly, and shook his head no, attention turning towards the small, round grenades he’d neglected to finish. Before he could pick one up to begin tinkering, Mako heaved himself off the bed and dropped to the floor, carefully maneuvering around the beakers of dangerous substances to sit in front of his boyfriend. The other avoided his gaze, looking everywhere but straight ahead.

A giant hand reached out to hook the pointed chin and Mako slowly turned his head, forcing Jamie to look at him. The blonde flinched underneath the iron in his gaze, a curtain the bigger man had dropped to hide his concern.

“Jamison.”

“Me mum’s in town, okay?” He spat the words in his face. “Leggo, your nails are fuckin’ sharp…” 

Quick as a striking snake, Jamie turned his head and managed to wrench far enough out of Mako’s grasp to bite him. Sharp teeth closed around his thumb and he grunted in pain, automatically pulling his hand away. Anger flared up, and though it wasn’t directed at anything in particular, Mako let it fill his head. Almost the moment Jamie was free, his partner launched himself at him, bulk slamming hard into the skinny twig.

Down they both went, despite Jamie’s efforts to stay upright. His legs began to flail, and Mako caught one of them in the gut before he could pin it with one of his own. Something knocked over behind them, but he was too focused on avoiding the nails the blonde sent straight for his eye.

“Get the fuck off me!”

A punch managed to connect with the side of Mako’s head and he was momentarily dazed from the impact of metal to his temple. Taking the opportunity presented, Jamie wiggled out from underneath him and sent both of his legs flying up into the other’s gut. All the air in his lungs rushed out in a whoosh and he was left gasping for breath. 

But that had never stopped him. 

With a wordless roar, he slammed Jamie back against the floor, forearm coming out to press against his shoulders and pin him. Mako settled most of his weight against the other’s legs so he couldn’t keep flailing, watching as Jamie thrashed against his bulk. Past experience should have taught him that he had no chance of escaping, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. Teeth sank into Mako’s forearm repeatedly and this time he was ready for them, riding out the sharp pain and panting heavily as he waited for his boyfriend to tire himself out.

It took the other a few seconds to accept that he’d been pinned and his head fell back against the floor with a groan. His flesh hand tapped against the floor twice.

“God damnit. Uncle. Let me up.”

Mako didn’t move.

“Fucking get off, I’m not gonna hit ya again.”

He still didn’t move.

“Mako, hands off the fuckin’ merchandise! You’re fucking up my binder!”

The bigger man finally adjusted. His forearm lifted from Jamie’s chest and he settled back on his legs instead, watching with satisfaction as his boyfriend winced. He didn’t move, letting Jamie realize that he wasn’t going to let him up until he got the answers he wanted.

“God, you’re fucking awful. Mummy dearest is in town, wanted to see where I lived. So I thought I’d split, and hide out here for a while ‘til she gets the idea that it’s fucking illegal for her to be here and leaves. Okay?”

He was too nervous. Jamie still refused to look at him and he could just tell he was holding something back. Mako let more of his weight drop onto the other’s legs, and he shifted uncomfortably.

“Sorry I didn’t fuckin’ ask first! Didn’t really feel like going ta class with me life in me backpack, yaknow?”

Mako gave him a pointed stare.

There were another few seconds where Jamie was actually silent, and he could see a number of expressions flit across the other’s face. There was pain and regret, and sorrow- those were to be expected, given Jamie’s history with his mother and what she’d done to him. But the manic gleam was still there, shining at him from the recesses of big, brown eyes.

“Fine, fine, Christ…” He took a deep breath. 

“I’m tired, okay? Tired a doin’ it, dealin’ with her shit. Was just starting ta get comfortable, and then I turn around, an’ she’s right there again. I don’t want ta fuckin’ do it forever mate, I won’t.”

“S’what the restraining order was for, but it’s worth less than a piece of shit. All I can fuckin’ do is call the cops ‘an report a violation. Doesn’t get rid of her.”

Those words sparked something in Jamie and his energy suddenly spiked. Mako finally let him off the ground, and he jumped to his feet the second he was free, barely grimacing at the feeling of blood rushing back to his toes. He started to pace around the room, stepping over the container of bleach they’d spilled without looking. 

“So I’m gonna do it. M’gonna get rid of her. Once and for all, I’m gonna do it. Blow her head up for everythin’ she did and show her exactly what kind of kid she raised. How good of a parent she turned out to be.”

Before Mako could react, Jamie was back on him, sliding into his lap and winding his flesh arm around his neck. The robotic hand poked him in the belly and he looked down to see his partner tracing the outlines of the tattoo there, an awful mess of script he’d somehow been talked into late one night, after too many shots of vodka.

_**“Big Pig Pimp.”** _

“I’m gonna make it so she can’t hurt me again.”

It was hard to place the exact emotion he could hear in Jamie’s voice. There was excitement and happiness in his tones, but neither of them could encompass the whole of it.

“Can ya help me, babe?” He asked.

Something deep down in Mako recognized it, from long ago.

“Sure.”

Contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank froggyflan for the tattoo inspiration. If you want to suggest something for me to write or request a certain scenario, talk to me on tumblr at mayyoubekind.tumblr.com. I like requests.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is finished. Find me at mayyoubekind.tumblr.com. I take writing prompts!

“God’s pissing on us.”

Both of them stared up at the sky, half covered in clouds and half blue and bright. A light rain had started moments before, coating their skin and clothes in warm rain. The part of the sky they sat under was free of clouds, and yet the rain still reached them on the hood of the old truck. The clouds were doing a good job of diffusing the sunrise light, so that their surroundings appeared to be bathed in soft gold. Jamie giggled to himself and stuck out his tongue to catch a few of the drops. “A golden shower.” Mako smacked his arm and earned a yelp of protest from Jamie, which he ignored. The light was pretty, and the way it reflected on the drops of water turned the piles of garbage and scrap around them into something worth looking at. Like one of those modern pieces of art that were just trash cans decorated with sequins and left in the middle of the street. Didn’t make any fucking sense, but glittered nice enough. He didn’t want the image of sitting out in a stream of piss to spoil the picture.

Of course, it already had. Jamie’s voice was annoyingly difficult to get out of his head and now all he could see when he looked at the sky was one huge toilet bowl.

The scrap yard was a few miles outside of the city, a place where people went to dump fridges and big appliances that didn’t work anymore. High fences built around the place were supposed to keep the public away from the huge machinery, which crushed and sorted all the assorted electric parts, but Jamie had started sneaking in a week after he moved into the city. It was good for finding stray wires and pieces of metal he could tinker with. Getting Mako in had been easy enough, when he’d already been inside the huge fence.

“Yaknow, I thought about livin’ here.” The blonde said, standing up on the car hood to take a long look around the place. Workers wouldn’t be here to start the huge machines for another few hours, since there wasn’t a hell of a lot to do without fresh ovens and washing machines to grind. The foreman was a different story, but Jamie figured he knew the man’s schedule well enough that they had at least an hour or two before his car would cross the gates.

Mako snorted.

“S’true! Like, after I got fired from tha’ garage and I was lookin’ fer a new job? Whole reason I needed a job was so I could afford the apartment, so I considered just saying ‘fuck it’ and moving here.”

From anyone else, he would have thought the statement an obvious lie. With Jamie, it was harder to tell.

“No showers. Air conditioning. Toilet. Bed.”  
“There’s a little trailer in the back for the guys when they go on break and it’s got a tiny bathroom. S’a TV in there and everything! I don’t got one of those back at home.”

The bigger man rolled his eyes, finally turning sideways to glance at the scrawny kid sitting next to him. His brown eyes were still alight with the same manic energy he’d had in the bedroom last night, and it was making it hard to read his emotions. Normally Jamie was an open book, but for once his mind seemed completely focused on the task at hand. He fiddled with the strap on his messenger bag as he talked, but his gaze hadn’t once moved from the front gates of the scrap yard. He’d left them wide open.

Despite staying up all night, Mako didn’t feel tired. There was apprehension deep in his gut and it seemed to be keeping him energized, ready to act at any moment. For once, it was his turn to be the one nearly buzzing out of his skin. His fingers twitched and relaxed at his sides, looking for something to do beyond sit there and wait.

“Don’t touch anythin’,” Jamie told him suddenly. “Don’t wantcha to be linked.”

“You built the shit in my room. I delivered the message for you. Of course I’ll be linked.”

“I meant to here, not yer room. Up til now, ya got plausible deniability. If they find yer prints here, that goes away.”

Kid thought he was a fucking lawyer. But Mako grunted in agreement anyway, knowing that this was what they’d planned as they passed a bottle of rum back and forth in the early morning hours. 

The sound of an approaching car killed the words building in his throat and he turned back to the gate to see a small blue car pulling up to the scrap yard. The sun glinted off the windshield so that he couldn’t see who was inside, but from the way Jamie stiffened beside him, it was pretty easy to guess. He’d only seen the woman for a brief moment, when he’d gone back to Jamie’s apartment to give her the address of the yard and the time she should arrive. He purposefully had avoided looking directly at her, unsure if he’d be able to keep his temper in check if he lingered. It was Jamie’s fight, not his. Mako was just the backup.

As the blonde woman stepped out of the car, he had to admit he was impressed by how put together she seemed this early in the morning. Her dress, cream and embroidered with small roses, was perfectly pressed. A rose clip adorned her hair, holding back bangs from falling in her face. She stepped gingerly on the dirt to avoid the small amount of mud that had built up during the rain, her umbrella the only dark part of her outfit. From this distance, Jamie’s mother looked young and very much out of place among the trash that surrounded her.

“Jane, why did you choose this place to meet?” Disgust was evident in her voice as she stopped a few yards from the truck, apparently unwilling to go any farther. “And who is this young man who so rudely refused to speak to me as he handed me your message?”

The lack of accent in her voice made him pause, glancing sideways. Jamie had moved to the states when he was little, and said the accent was a product of growing up with his parents. Now, Mako had the sneaking suspicion he’d gone back to the stylized, accent as a way of distancing himself from his mother. 

Instead of answering her questions, Jamie raised his head to the sky once again and let a few more drops of God’s Piss roll down his cheeks. The silence stretched on, broken only by the repetitive sounds of rain tapping on metal. Eventually, his mother sighed deeply.

“Are you really going to be a child about this? Fine. Jamison, why am I here?”

At the use of the correct name, Jamie started like he’d only just noticed her presence, an unnatural and unnerving smile stretching across his face. There were too many teeth shown, lips pulled too taunt. Eyes too bright.

“Morning mum! Thought I’d show ya my favorite place in the city, since ya came so far ta visit me, yaknow?”

She glanced around the junkyard doubtfully.

“A trash dump?”

“Yup! Makes me feel at home, reminds me of you.” 

He laughed and jumped off the hood of the truck, smacking his metal hand against it when he landed. Mako could feel the vibration through his body even as his ears rang from the noise, and he had to fight not to roll his eyes at Jamie’s dramatics. 

Mother and son stepped closer together, and he studied their forms, looking for signs of her in his boyfriend. They had the same scrawny build, same hair color, same freckles across their noses- but Jamie towered over her by about a foot, a fact which he seemed to relish in. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eye, a task made more difficult by the way he kept hopping from foot to foot in his excitement. There was also a leanness to Jamie not present in his mother; where he had a thin layer of muscle and bones, she was round and curved. 

“Why’d ya come here, mom? Ya know ya ain’t supposed to.”

“I told you before. I wanted to see you.”

“Don’t care. Shouldn’t have come.”

Mako watched her bite her lip, pulling in her cheeks. It was a move he recognized.

“Don’t say that. I missed you, sweetie. It’s been so long since we talked.”

Jamie snorted and shook his head, the movement flinging drops of water off the tips of his blonde strands. His prosthetic crept towards the messenger bag and Mako took that as a sign to drop off the hood of the truck. He landed with an audible ‘thump’ and the woman’s gaze snapped to focus on him as he walked around to the back of the vehicle. The kid raised two fingers to his forehead, giving her a mocking salute.

“Ya don’t got the right ta be here, mum.”

In an instant, her attention was refocused on her son. The arm that wasn’t holding her umbrella reached out to grasp Jamie’s forearm, and her thumb began to rub soothingly at the skin there. He froze under her touch, one arm stuck deep within his bag.

“Of course I do. You’re my child.”

A flinch. Jamie snarled lowly and knocked her hand away from him, stepping back out of her reach.

“No. I ain’t.”

“Honey-“

“No! No, ya don’t get to show up here and start talkin’ like ya care ‘bout me, okay? Ya just don’t!”

Mako’s fingers began to twitch once again and he longed to be standing right behind Jamie, backing him up against the figure from his nightmares. He didn’t even want to fight the woman, but being this far away from the guy he loved during this moment felt wrong.

That was something he’d discovered, when he and Jamie first actually broached the subject of the weird thing they had going on. When Jamie had first climbed into his lap and peppered his cheeks with kisses, telling him that he was hot, sexy, handsome. When he actually let himself acknowledge that he’d come to care for the skinny fuck, even though he was sure he’d never get another moment’s peace in his entire life. 

Mako had a protective streak that ran as big and deep as the Grand Canyon, and it was coming out in full force.  
He forced himself to pause, nails digging half-crescent marks into his palm, teeth bared in a silent snarl. The rain dropping down Jamie’s face was leaving trail marks in the soot there, leftovers from his night of inventing and tinkering with chemicals. It made it look like the blonde boy was crying as he squared himself against the smaller woman in front of him, pulling a round object from his messenger bag. 

“Ya didn’t care ‘bout me, okay? Ya cared about the kid you wanted, tha’ one who was supposed to be here instead of me. The girl with all the pretty dresses and a nice singing voice, and two fuckin’ arms. You couldn’t give a shit about yer son.”

Jamie’s voice cracked on the word ‘son’ and he suddenly stepped very close to his mother, knocking her umbrella out of her hands with a sudden swipe move. She gaped at the movement and took a step back, but he pressed the advance until her back was against the metal of the car she’d came here in.

“I killed yer pretty little girl, mum. Killed her the second I was born, right? That’s what you thought all those years, ain’t it? But ya didn’t resent me, oh no, ‘course not. Ya just had ta make me fit, make me into her.”

She tried to interrupt him, but the boy’s mechanical arm slammed into the metal arm of the car and she yelped instead. It was a high, nervous, scared sound.

“If ya just screamed enough, I’d be her, right? Hit me hard enough? If I got scared enough, if I really thought you’d fuckin’ kill me, I’d try harder to be her? ‘Cause that’s what ya did, you bitch!”

Metal cracked and the explosive held in his hand fell to the floor in a shower of shards, gunpowder, and wires. Blue eyes followed them and then rose back up to Jamie’s face in quick succession. Any color that had remained in her face was gone as she realized he’d been holding a live explosive, one that could easily end both of them in an instant.

Mako and Jamie had both always known that the skinny fucker would go out with a bang.

But that wasn’t the plan here, wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

“Yer a shitty ass mom. Yer a shitty person too.”

His mechanical hand removed itself from the metal of the car and dipped back into the bag for another explosive. Time slowed down as both Mako and Jamie’s mother focused on the movement, wondering what was going to appear in the palm, what weapon he would draw next. Jamie had told Mako to stay behind the truck at all times, just in case something happened. Just in case something went too far or exploded in the wrong way.

Instead of a bomb though, it was the small woman who exploded.

One moment, she was hunched against her car, fearful of her son and cowering in the rain. In the next, she snarled like a beast and her palms came up to strike Jamie’s shoulders, the unexpected blow sending him staggering away. He almost slipped in the muddy soil but managed to stay upright, snapping his gaze back up almost immediately after he caught his balance.

An open hand struck him across the cheek and the boy grunted in surprise, face rocking sideways from the blow, eyes wide. He stared straight at Mako, but the bigger man could see that he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. Just staring, trying to process what had happened.

“You fucking ingrate! Where’s the fucking thanks I get for not tossing you in a dumpster the second you were born? For being your god damn mother every single day! I had dreams, before you were born, but you threw all of them out of the window with your grubby little hand, and then complained that you didn’t have more to toss.”

The light switched back on in Jamie’s eyes. Mako could the change come over him, even from this distance- it swept over his body, made him tense, made his fingers twitch. All at once, Jamie’s eyes began to dart everywhere except at his mother, though whether that was on purpose was difficult to tell.

“You’re coming home at the end of the school year, Jane. No more screwing around in dumps and playing with explosives, no more wasting the court’s time so you can avoid having responsibilities. It’s time to end this stupid charade.”

Jamie’s shoulders began to shake, and for a moment it looked as though he was crying underneath the weight of her words. The tracks in the soot on his face were widening with each passing second, as the rain got worse and worse. Mako was soaked through in moments, his sweatshirt and pants providing little protection. 

Despite the worsening rain, the sun was still visible in half of the sky. The golden color had faded though, and with it any semblance of beauty was gone too. The trash heap was beginning to smell, assaulting their nostrils with the scent of wet garbage and mold. Mud squeaked underneath Jamie’s feet as he finally turned to look at his mother again, clutching the messenger bag close again.

He was laughing again, Mako realized. Giggling over and over at the funniest of jokes he’d ever heard.

“You gonna leave me alone, mum? Go away forever?”

She snorted despite her son’s strange behavior, bending down to pick up her umbrella from the mud. In a few shakes, it was clean again, and she raised it over her head despite the fact that she’d already been drenched.

“Of course not. No matter how much I would like to, I can’t abandon my child.”

A real peal of laughter echoed across the dump.

“Oh, goodie. I was hoping you’d say that.”

In the span of a second, another little device had been fished out from his bag. Jamie tossed it towards her and reflexively, his mother caught it, frowning at the round object in her hand. The lanky teen quickly backpedaled across the junkyard, even as the woman’s mind caught up with her. She dropped it like it had burned her and began to scramble for cover, shoes sinking slightly into the soft ground. 

“Jane-“ A high-pitched scream, pleading.

There was nowhere for her to run to, with the car at her back and a bomb in front of her. Mako ducked behind the truck, watched his boyfriend scramble behind the closest pile of junk, watched him fish out a detonator from his pocket and pop the hastily rigged cap off. Watched as he jammed his finger down on the button without hesitating. Watched him smile. 

The world blew up in a haze of mud, rain and smoke. Mako’s eardrums immediately popped with the blast and then began to ring, a whining, droning noise. Like Jamie’s voice.

It rattled in his chest like nothing else ever had, a vibration that thudded against ribs and tore through his stomach. Even after the shockwave passed, he stood rooted to the spot, feeling non-existent aftershocks. 

Somehow, someway, he hadn’t been expecting it to turn out like they planned. Something would go wrong or someone would come to the junkyard early, and they’d have to leave and hide and regroup. The bomb wouldn’t go off and Jamie’s mother would be left scared but alive, hopefully shocked enough to go away, wondering if her son had really tried to kill her. At the last second, his boyfriend would come down off the strange, manic high that had caught up his mind and realize that he didn’t really want to do this, as awful as the woman had been to him.

But it had happened. A woman was dead. And Mako couldn’t find it within himself to care.

He knew he should. Taking a human life, even the life of someone he considered to be less than the dirt underneath his shoe, was supposed to be monumental. A huge act, with consequences, both in the physical and emotional sense.   
Instead, he was content. Across from him, Jamie was cheering, already freed from his hiding place so he could survey the blast crater. That was wrong too- killing your mother couldn’t be so easy as that, could it? At the very least, you should cry.

Shaking the ringing from his ears, Mako pulled himself out of his hiding spot behind the truck and approached his boyfriend. Purposefully he kept his eyes away from the corpse at the edge of his vision, instead focusing on the face of the blonde who hopped from foot to foot. His flesh hand had taken the detonator from the prosthetic, and the thumb repeatedly jammed the button, the clicking noise filling the space that the high-pitched buzz had left.

“I did it.” Jamie muttered, more to himself than Mako, but the bigger man grunted in agreement all the same. Up close, he could see that the other was indeed crying. Big, fat tears rolled down his cheeks, mingling with the raindrops before dropping off altogether. A few of them managed to slide into Jamie’s open mouth and his tongue reached up to lap at them. They’d managed to pick up some of the soot from his face and he grimaced at the taste of the mixture.

In the blink of an eye, the blonde turned to drop the device in his hands and threw himself into Mako’s arms. He thrummed with intensity, practically buzzing, and only remained there for half a second before he turned again.

Jamie raced over to the truck and pulled out a pre-packed duffel bag. He added that to his shoulders, leaning over the side of the door to check that he hadn’t left anything else inside.

They didn’t have much time- they had no way of knowing if someone had heard the explosion or not, so they had to assume the answer was yes. It would be easy to trace the death back to Jamie- fingerprints from the metal casings, the method of killing, the victim…

Last night, lying squished into Mako’s bed, they’d known that Jamie would have to run. 

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?”

“Only you.”

“Good, good. Ya got Bomber’s food, right? Did I give ya the toys?”

“Yeah.”

They’d talked this over, decided that Mako couldn’t go with him. It would be harder for both of them to sneak by unnoticed, harder if there were real, concerned parents added into the mix. Someone had to be there to take care of the rat; couldn’t be dragging the poor thing all around America, trying to hide from the cops.  
Jamie was the most important thing in his life, the only person he’d ever felt a thing for. 

_“Guess the rat’s an okay substitute. Can hardly tell the difference.”_

_“If ya keep talkin’ like that, you can go fuck yerself, cause I sure as hell ain’t gonna do it.”_

It’d be hard, to fall back into the pattern of routine and resignation that had categorized his life before. Somehow, Mako didn’t think he’d be able to. He’d helped kill someone and felt nothing but joy over their death. That kind of thing didn’t really allow for suburban life.

“I’ll see ya around, mate.”

The blonde was scrambling up over the fence already, headed in the direction of the woods. He’d hike through there, get to a bus station, buy a ticket for one bus and then sneak onto another. Mako hadn’t asked where he’d be going and Jamie never said.

“Hey.”

He raised his voice to speak once his boyfriend had landed on his feet, and Jamie looked over his shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. The manic gleam hadn’t faded from those brown eyes.

“Stay out of trouble.”

A snicker. Jamie was still crying.

“I’ll be on me best behavior!”


End file.
